Two Years and Change
by c1araoswa1d
Summary: Tumblr Whouffle Prompt: The Doctor accidentally lands the Tardis on an alternate Earth where WW3 is going on. He goes to leave, but the Tardis leaves Clara. The only time he can come back for her is two years later, when the war ends, and she has changed. A lot.


He's at the console when the doors begin to close and when he glances up, expecting to see Clara making her way to the controls with him, he sees the shocked look on her face as she's running towards the doors, now snapped shut. Releasing a shout – a name and a curse – he grabs hold of the lever swinging itself down, taking him into the vortex and tries to pry it back up until he can feel the pulse of his veins in his temples with the effort.

"No," he bellows, as he works to undo what she's done, but the Tardis is working against him, countering his actions as he rushes about, slipping when they dip and grabbing hold of the bars just before they slam down onto Earth again.

Alternate Earth, a place they shouldn't have landed, in the midst of World War III.

The screen hanging from the console blinks a date at him and he approaches it warily, already feeling his hearts pounding because he knows he won't like what it says and as he reads off the date, he claps a hand over his eyes and then rubs it over his face, giving it a shake before the growl of anger. "_No, why did you do that_?" The Doctor shouts at the center console as he rushes towards the doors, taking a long breath before opening them.

Outside the sun has just begun to set and the London he looks out over is smoking, but there's a silence in the air there hadn't been when they'd landed before. When they'd last landed, they'd walked a half block through shouting civilians and gunfire before he realized everything was very wrong, just as a bomb detonated underneath a car just up the street – an explosion that left them covered in a light dusting of dirt and Clara nursing a bloodied cheek.

"Clara!"

He turns quickly, looking over the rubble of buildings and the carcasses of cars, lifting his Sonic into the space in front of him to scan for life forms and finding several. Rushing quickly to take some measure of cover against the closest standing wall, the Doctor shouts her name again and begins to move amongst the chunks of cement and the charred ground and he knows the area had been blasted fairly recently.

"Clara!"

He feels a fool for shouting into what could be a warzone, but some part of him believes if he shouts loudly enough, she'll come out and find him and when the small thin person wrapped completely in veils and shawls grabs him by his waist coat and tosses him inside of a half fallen building, he's thankful that at least there's someone he can question. Except that when he looks up into the eyes that stare down at him, lying on the ground, from behind the scope of a long rifle, he finds himself searching familiar pools of brown that momentarily don't recognize him.

"Clara?" The Doctor questions lightly, hands up at his sides – his Sonic having been kicked aside by her at some point during his fall.

The gun shifts in her hands, but she keeps it trained on him as a young voice asks, "How does he know your name? You said no one knows you here."

"No one does," she argues, voice muffled by the cloth across her face.

"But mummy, he's a strange man – you said not to speak to stra…"

"John!" Clara shouts as a warning, eyes momentarily leaving his to look at the boy the Doctor can't see and when they find his again, they're softer, closing slowly as she gives her head a shake and then relaxes, letting the gun fall to her side. "Get up," she barks at him. He hesitates and she bends slightly to shout, "Get up, now!"

He scrambles to his feet as she glances back out through the dusty windows and she's taken hold of his coat, yanking him towards what he now sees are four small children – three boys who look between four and ten, and the oldest is holding a small girl he estimates to be less than a year old – who stare at him curiously as Clara approaches. She stops and shakes her head at them before lifting an arm towards a darkened room.

"I told you to stay inside!" Clara hissed, then she looked to the oldest, "You were supposed to keep them in there, Samuel; you promised me…"

The boy with the scarlet hair and the dark eyes goes slack jawed before gesturing, "John was screamin' bloody murder in there and Peter does what John does and that set off Isabelle – I can't keep a leash on them all, Clara!"

She points and the boys move inside and Clara yanks the Doctor behind her, swiftly turning and setting the gun down to shift a bookcase into the hole. For a moment the Doctor stands aside, still staring between Clara and the boys, until she stops and grunts, "_Well_, help me, you arsehole!"

The smaller two boys gasp and their hands come up to their ears, one quietly muttering, "You're not supposed to curse, mummy."

He manages a small laugh, giving the youngster a thumbs up while watching Clara beside him as they push the bookcase into the space and then Clara snatches then gun and moves between himself and the children. As if she didn't trust him. She nods to him as he leans into the wall panting, and tells him plainly, "War ended a few weeks ago, but there are still looters, rioters, lot who want to stir trouble now that everything's rubble."

The Doctor absorbs the information and just as he's going to ask her a question, she swiftly turns to the children and begins to usher them back towards a small space that's got a fire burning inside of a metal bin. He follows slowly, watching her hoist the younger of the boys up into her free arm to smile for him, the first normal thing he's seen since he'd landed, and when they reach the space, he can see the cushions and books tossed about, stuffed animals lying about, a playpen set in the corner and Clara points, watching Samuel take Isabelle to settle her inside.

And then she turns. "First light, we take them into the Tardis and get them somewhere safe."

He opens his mouth, but she's already approaching him, pushing him away from the children, and he finds himself stumbling backwards, muttering softly, "Clara, please, Clara."

The rifle is still slung onto her shoulder and when her fist connects with his jaw, it blackens his vision a moment as he spins on the spot and reaches out for a wall. "Why did you leave?"

Her words are quiet, but they bite and he looks to the children peeking over at them. "Who are they, Clara?"

She shakes her head and she puts herself between them again, protecting the children from him. "Why did you leave? Where did you go? Why did it take two bloody years to get back here?"

"I was gone for thirty two seconds!" He bends to meet her eyes, seeing the fire in them despite the lack of light and he glances back at the baby, "Oh, _Clara_."

Wincing, Clara gestures back, "She's _not_ mine; her mother was shot in the street and left for dead. I had to sneak out in the middle of the night to get her."

"Those two call you _mummy_," the Doctor questions.

On a nod, eyes fluttering over him and finding the ground, Clara licks her lips and she quickly explains, "I heard a baby crying, when we were trying to leave. The bomb killed his parents; I was going to check on him when the Tardis closed her doors and disappeared." Then she gave a sigh, "Peter was abandoned by a grandmother, looked like, just before she jumped off a bridge."

"And the other?" He asks weakly.

Clara glances back and when she turns, there was a small hint of a smile fading from her lips, "All of them; same story." Then she took a step back. "I had two others, an older girl and boy; I tried…" her voice trails and then she seems to snap back, telling him bluntly, "They're gone."

"What…" he began, looking her over, seeing the rigid stance and the age on her face – as though two years had been so many more… and her eyes, the Doctor thought to himself sadly, they seem so much older than when he'd last seen her. "_What happened_, Clara?"

She shook away the sadness and he watches her throw a shield up over her heart – a barrier between them – and she looks to the door, "Guard it for the night, you don't need much sleep anyways. First light, we get them to the Tardis and then to safety."

He raises a hand to get her attention, to try and talk with her. He wants to know what happened to her, but she'd already turned, shoulders dropping visibly as she moves towards the children, and then he watches them lift back up again. Strengthening for them as she rummages in a sack and begins handing them rations of food and the Doctor falls back against the wall next to the book case, hearing the gunfire and shouts outside.

The world she'd lived in for two years; two years alone.

He watches Clara tuck the three boys in as night falls and while he stands guard over the door, Clara warily sits with her back to him, Isabelle in her arms, watching over the children. She doesn't turn to look at him, or ask him to come closer, or help her. She simply sits, still as stone and he finds his heart breaking at the notion that his Clara is _his Clara_ no more.


End file.
